Jacob's Ladder (1806) by William Blake
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@queerwitchbro
Jacob's Ladder (1806) by William Blake
One of my favorite exercises of all time I call "bucket of words." I am 100% positive there are other iterations of it with better names, but here's how you do it:
Write a character taking an action.
Add 1 object description
Add 1 setting description
Add internal feeling (does not need to be related to action)
Add physical manifestation of feeling (ie sweating, shaking, smiling, etc)
Add setting atmosphere (this MUST be impacted by internal feeling so if your character is scared, atmosphere must be threatening vibes)
Add internal monologue, at least one sentence
Add 1 setting or object description (your choice)
Complete with sentence fragment, ideally either the completion of initial action or a repetition of action sentence.
((Important to note that these do not need to all be separate sentences))
Serena folded the laundry.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed as tall as her hip.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful. She snapped her wrists hard enough the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - sounded like a whip cracking.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful. She snapped her wrists hard enough the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - sounded like a whip cracking. The silence of the house chased the sound, smothering it (and her) with oppressive ease.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful. She snapped her wrists hard enough the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - sounded like a whip cracking. The silence of the house chased the sound, smothering it (and her) with oppressive ease. They won't mention me tonight. Not even a footnote. I bet the award ceremony is over now. If they cared even a little, they'd call.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful. She snapped her wrists hard enough the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - sounded like a whip cracking. The silence of the house chased the sound, smothering it (and her) with oppressive ease. They won't mention me tonight. Not even a footnote. I bet the award ceremony is over now. If they cared even a little, they'd call. Her phone lay next to the growing stack of folded costumes, screen like an abyss.
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat next to the bed, as tall as her hip. She felt resentful. She snapped her wrists hard enough the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - sounded like a whip cracking. The silence of the house chased the sound, smothering it (and her) with oppressive ease. They won't mention me tonight. Not even a footnote. I bet the award ceremony is over now. If they cared even a little, they'd call. Her phone lay next to the growing stack of folded costumes, screen like an abyss. Serena folded the laundry.
Quick edited version:
Serena folded the neon spandex suit. A large pile of similarly brightly colored costume pieces sat squatly next to the bed, as tall as her hip. Resentfully, she snapped out the next piece of laundry - a nylon cape - so hard it cracked like a whip. The silence of the house chased the sound, smothering it (and her) with oppressive ease. Her lip curled as she reached for a pair of aqua leggings. They won't mention me tonight. Not even a footnote. I bet the award ceremony is over now. I asked them to call when it ended. If they cared... Her phone lay next to the growing stack of folded costumes, screen like an abyss. She felt the weight of the empty house compacting her ribs, shoving her underneath her own skin, down and down and down. As if from a distance, she saw her arm, skin still pink from healing, reach for a red undershirt. Another load sat in the dryer waiting.
Serena folded the laundry.
teeth of the valley
thinking about how ursula k leguin said "what goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives" and how everyday i wake up slightly different and i can feel myself shed the skin of who i used to be slowly, slowly, until i look back and can scarcely recognise who i was... but also she is still a part of me, part of the leaf litter and the humus, supporting me as i send new roots down and new leaves stretching up to the sunlight
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